The soliloquy of an ugly woman

I want someone to think I’m beautiful and worth it
I want someone who will hold my hand in public
I want someone who genuinely cares about me
I want someone who knows pain enough to feel joy
I want someone who loves his family more than himself
I want someone who loves God more than all
I want someone who will spend time in instead of going to the bar
I want someone who can look into my eyes and see who I am
The problem is me
When you look how I do
Not appealing to the eye
Not fat but not skinny
Nothing special
When you look how I do
You don’t get to be choosy
You take what’s given to you
And odds are he’ll go to the bar instead of spending the night in
He won’t go to church or have a relationship with God
He will hate his parents and love himself
He will be filled with hollow happiness because he’s never felt loss
He will hurt me and not bat an eye, because he knows I can’t do better
He won’t grab my hand, instead he’ll walk slightly in front of me always
He won’t see my beauty, he’ll see my desperation
He will look into my eyes only to see his reflection
And I will never be worth more than the cheap sex he gives me
I will never be worth his love or attention
I will never be worth commitment or sacrifice
Because girls who look like me don’t get to choose


I write

I write for the average person
I write for the people I connect with
I write for the lost souls of everyday life
I write for the people who have nothing to show for their age
Except for scars
Broken hearts and grey hairs
The people that have worked hard for every pay check in their lives
Who scrounge up change from under the driver side seat if their car
Just to buy a pack of cigarettes
The people who go out on Saturday night because Friday was pay day and that’s all they can afford.

I write this because right now I don’t have enough money to keep smoking like I want to
To start driving the car I want to
To pay back the money that I owe
Or really to do anything outside of sitting and being stuck in my own head
And I know a lot of you are like me
Too much thinking can be a very bad thing
I’m not saying it leads to bad thoughts
Like suicide or robbing a bank or stealing a car or anything like that
It’s bad because people like me start thinking too much and we can never stop
And if we never stop we can never sleep
If we never sleep then we can never stop this ongoing effect that we call our thoughts
But eventually we sleep

And when the sun raises in the morning all we want to do is cover our face with the blanket
And go back to playing poker on the moon with all of our heroes
But instead of this dream we have to wake up
Nine to five
Nine to five
Everyday for five days a week
Fifty two weeks a year
For at least sixty five years out of our lives
Back to the grind

I write this for the hopeless romantics
For the young generations that can barely understand my words
I write this
Sitting alone in my bedroom waiting for the day my voice is heard
I write this
And I’ll keep on writing ’till my hands decide that they don’t want to hold a pen anymore


Sometimes I leave the window open
At night because when the cold air
Whistles through
It mimics your soft voice
And the cool breeze kisses
My skin just as you did
But the funny thing is,
Even though it is below 50 outside
The kisses were never as cold
As yours